


Caught In The Eye Of The Storm

by sweetautumnleaves



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternative Universe - Human, Attempt at Humor, Banter, Celebrities, Closeted Character, F/M, Fluff, Gossip, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Photographer!Magnus, Protective Siblings, Romance, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, WIP, Writer!Alec, dialogue-so much dialogue because the author is a sucker for that, press
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:04:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetautumnleaves/pseuds/sweetautumnleaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be the wedding of the year between Alec Lightwood and Aline Penhallow, the newest star in Hollywood. But out of the blue the whole thing has been canceled. To get away from all the annoying gossip, Alec decides to move to NYC, starting all over and working on his writing career. Simple as that.</p><p>Magnus Bane is a freelance photographer at the lifestyle magazine "Pandemonium". His first job after he’d taken a sabbatical: Find out where Alec Lightwood disappeared to and get pictures. Magnus certainly has no desire to do that. Especially since he is no paparazzo and doesn’t care for some random brat of a famous corporate lawyer.</p><p>If only he knew that the tall, shy but so very handsome dark-haired guy he recently met isn’t so unknown to the world as Magnus believes he is ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was mostly inspired because I needed something fun to write for a change. Something to distract me from my daily writing stuff, kinda. And because I am so sucked into the Malec abyss. So here I am. With my first Malec fanfic and my first fanfic for ages.
> 
> Right now, I have no idea how many chapters there will be. When I first started writing it, I thought this fic would have max. 10k words in the end. Yeah ... that is not going to happen. lol Apparently, this will be a slow burn. With a lot of humor and shameless innuendos, I guess. Because I love writing humor. And I am a sucker for dialogue. But there will be a HEA, that's for sure.
> 
> Title of this fic is taken from the amazing Saybia song "No Sound From The Outside". 
> 
> Huge shoutout to my two awesome betas: [scathachbane](http://scathachbane.tumblr.com/) who encouraged me to go through with this and helped a lot with the plot and [I-know-my-value](http://i-know-my-value.tumblr.com/) who was kind enough to correct any grammar mistakes I made. Thank you both for your support and encouragement!
> 
> FYI: English is not my native language! 
> 
> Also: None of the characters belong to me.

“So, what do you think?” Isabelle excitedly clapped her hands together and looked at her brother who stood, arms crossed and with his back towards her, in front of the window, the Brooklyn Bridge behind in the distance. “I know the place is probably not what you—“

Alec turned around, a hint of a smile showing at the corner of his mouth. “It’s nice, Izzy.”

“Nice?!”

“Yeah. Nice.” Alec furrowed his brow. “Or ... not?”

Alec had absolutely no idea what his sister expected him to say. Of course, he had seen the pictures of this ‘rat-hole’ that Isabelle had sent him (and it really had been a dump with all the crap lying around and a million spiderwebs in the corners). And it wasn’t like Alec couldn’t acknowledge the massive changes his sister had made. All the new soft cushions on the couch, the curtains, various framed photographs on the walls, a bouquet of flowers on his desk... Overall this place definitely seemed more well-lit than that dark and dusty place from two weeks ago.

Nonetheless, Alec just didn’t care for all of this. He was just glad to have finally found an affordable apartment and that his sister hadn’t gone completely nuts with the colors and the decoration. Although she had been complaining a lot when Alec had forced her to keep it ‘simple’. He liked black and grey. So? If Isabelle wanted to paint her walls ruby red because it was the new color of the season, please ... she should just go with it. All he needed was a bed to sleep in and a table with a swivel chair where he could sit and work. Everything else was certainly not high on his list of priorities.

Isabelle squinted her eyes and took a deep breath. “Really, Alec? I have spent the last three days nonstop cleaning, battling with the movers and decorating while you were at Jace’s moping. I poured my heart and soul into making this scummy apartment of yours look halfway decent and homey—and if I may say so, I did an amazing job. And all you’ve got to say now is: it’s nice?!”

“It _is_ nice,” Alec deadpanned.

Somehow his sister seemed to have forgotten that she’d literally forced him to stay away from this place until she was done working her magic. Isabelle’s words, not his. So Alec did. And he did _not_ mope. He just ... well, considered his options. Until Jace had practically forced him to do at least some workouts with him before Alec became totally rusty.

Isabelle threw her hands in the air. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m with her,” chimed in a voice from the hallway. Seconds later a blond guy came into the kitchen, breathing heavily, while putting the last one of Alec’s moving boxes onto the counter top. “Seriously, bro, what did you pack into these boxes? Rocks?”

“Jace, tell our brother that I’m awesome. And a born interior designer.”

“She is awesome, Alec.”

Alec suppressed a smile. “How much did she pay you?”

“Probably more than I’ll get from you, buddy.” Jace brushed away a sweaty strand of hair and plopped down on one of the two wooden stools. “By the way, thanks for letting me drag your damn stuff upwards all by myself. It was so much fun. Especially since this shabby building has no elevator.”

“You offered to do it,” Isabelle said nonchalantly.

Jace snorted. “Jeez, thanks Izzy.”

She shrugged. “Anytime.”

“You know, I still don’t get why you of all people need a kitchen.” Jace fished for the box of donuts that lay at the end of the kitchen counter. “You can’t cook,” he said, chewing on a chocolate-frosted donut.

Alec rolled his eyes. “This may surprise you, Jace, but it sorta came with the place.”

Although it had surprised Alec as much as Jace that his new home had an eat-in kitchen and a bathroom, he wouldn’t have taken it otherwise. He may not have much money left, but he still had some preferences when it came to renting an apartment. And having his own bath was definitely very high on that list.

“Doesn’t mean that you need it. Or use it.”

“I can cook,” Alec huffed. “Way better than Izzy, actually.”

Jace gave a smug smile.

“I am standing right here, you guys.” Isabelle smacked both of her brothers right on their upper arms. “My cooking skills are excellent.”

Alec kept a straight face. “Of course they are.” 

The last time he had an encounter with his sister’s ‘cooking skills’ was when she insisted on making him pancakes for his birthday and had ended up using powdered sugar instead of flour. It was ... interesting, to say the least.

“I’m so not coming over to help you out with my cooking expertise if you need it. Ever.”

“Make her swear on it, Alec,” Jace whispered and put the last bit of the chocolate donut into his mouth.

Isabelle glared at him. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? At the gym maybe?”

“No.” He crossed his arms behind his neck and smiled brightly. “Hodge gave me the day off. I am all yours.”

“You’re so annoying.” Isabelle said but her eyes shone fondly at her adoptive brother.

“I love you, too, Izzy.”

Alec shook his head, sighing. He loved his siblings, he truly did. And since he was the eldest he was also very protective of them. In fact, Jace and Isabelle sometimes called him ‘mother hen’. Which made Alec usually roll his eyes but inwardly he smiled at that.

Still, at moments like these he really did wonder how it was possible to be actually related to these two. Isabelle was open, fierce and so content with herself and the world. And Jace was ... well, Jace. Overconfident, with a charming smile and angelic looks, constantly testing his luck when it came to getting himself into trouble. Alec had lost count of how often he had accompanied Jace in the past, just to make sure he did return safely. Which often ended in Alec taken the blame after their parents had to get both of them out of trouble.

Jace was the complete opposite of Alec, who was calm and serious, permanently overthinking his actions and always playing by the rules. But even though they were so different, Jace and Alec had instantly become best friends when the Lightwood’s adopted Jace after his parents, old friends and also important clients of his father, died in a car accident when Jace was only nine years old.

“Ten bucks he thinks we’re acting childish.”

“Twenty he keeps wondering if moving to New York was a big mistake.”

Alec threw his head back and groaned loudly. “Could you both please stop? If not I’m seriously tempted by going back to LA.”

Isabelle raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows, hands on her hips. “Like that’s ever going to happen—with all the attention you will get after what happened at your wedding.”

Alec’s face went blank. Right. The wedding. Not that he needed a reminder of that. “Can we talk about something else? For example, how’s medical school going?”

“Yes, Izzy, did you kill anybody lately?”

“JACE!” Alec shouted reproachful.

Isabelle narrowed her eyes, arms folded. “Here’s the thing: becoming a doctor doesn’t only entail that I know how to cure you. I also know how to make you suffer. Very slowly. Very painfully. So, you better don’t mess with me.“

“Sometimes you really scare me, Iz.”

Isabelle batted her lashes and smiled devilish. “Good.”

“You two are impossible,” Alec said.

Jace and Isabelle grinned innocently.

Alec ran a hand through his already tousled black hair and started to unpack his new coffee machine. Jace may be right, he really didn’t need a kitchen but he sure as hell needed coffee to function properly. Lots of coffee.

“Says the guy who ditched his own wedding,” Jace replied dryly.

“I did _not_ ditch my wedding.”

“You sure? Because if I remember correctly we were all waiting for you and your lovely bride-to-be in that church to tie the knots. I even wore a freaking suit—a suit!—because Izzy forced me to. The only thing missing in the end was—guess what? You and Aline.”

Alec rolled his eyes. Here we go. “You know what happened,” he replied weary. He really didn’t wanna talk about that day, never again.

“That’s the thing, Alec. You told me, your best man, everything _after_ I had to stand in front of Aline’s and your parents, all their business associates, and nearly half of Hollywood’s young actors squad, to tell them that the wedding of the year was off. Believe it or not, but Maryse and Robert are still pissed at me because of that. And I only was the messenger.”

“At least they didn’t disown you”, Alec responded matter-of-factly but it was obvious how much his parents’ attitude still hurt him deep inside. In fact Alec couldn’t quite believe that his mother was still so mad at him just because he didn’t obey her orders for once in his life.

Right until that moment, Alec had done everything Maryse and Robert had asked him to. Everything. Even getting married to a girl he didn’t love. He still would have done it. For his family. For the firm. For the honor and the expectations that came with it. Apparently it still wasn’t enough. Not enough for his parents to accept that life didn’t always follow their precious plans, no matter how hard they tried to ignore the details and their son’s happiness.

Even though calling off the whole thing hadn’t been Alec’s decision.

It was Aline’s.

Of course.

Five minutes before she was supposed to walk down the aisle Aline had sent her bridesmaid Emma to go and get Alec. Baffled, he’d followed Emma to Aline’s room—among the whispering of the wedding guests and slightly irritated faces from the Penhallow’s and his parents.

When Alec had finally gotten to Aline, she’d told him immediately that she couldn’t go through with this marriage.

“It’s wrong, Alec. This whole wedding, it is so, so wrong. You know it. I know it. Because let’s be honest to ourselves: You don’t love me, and I don’t love you either. We would just do it to please our parents. That’s not right, Alec. Don’t you think?”

Alec had stared at her, disbelieving.

Then he slightly nodded.

Aline had stroked with her tiny hand over his check, smiling sadly.

“You’re a good man, Alec. I know that because I’ve known you nearly my entire life. And I know you would do anything to make your family proud. Even marrying for wrong reasons. But you and me, this would never work and we both know exactly why that is.”

Alec had just gulped, avoiding her eyes that had looked so understanding at him. Like she’d been looking right through him.

“Promise me one thing?” Aline had asked.

He’d closed his eyes, desperately trying to control his breathing. “Anything.”

“Listen to your heart. You’re not used to do it but trust me, sometimes it’s worth a try. Because it will lead you to your happiness sooner or later.”

“How do you know?” Alec had croaked.

Aline’s face had started to glow, her brown almond-shaped eyes shining like a starry sky. “Because I’ve listened to mine.”

Alec couldn’t deny that he was somewhat relieved that he didn’t have to marry Aline. So very freaking relieved that he took the blame that was about to come willingly, plus he gave Aline his word not to spill any details of why they decided to not get married to neither his parents nor to Jia and Patrick Penhallow and especially not to the press. And Alec Lightwood kept his word. Always. A trait that his mother didn’t quite like as of now. In Maryse’s eyes he was a disgrace to the family. Not worthy of being a Lightwood anymore.

“They didn’t disown you. They’re just—” Jace looked at Isabelle for help.

“It’s simply a lot to take in for them,” she asserted, putting a hand on her brother’s shoulder.

Alec’s left eye twitched. “You of all people defending them? That’s new.”

“I’m on your side, Alec.” She pled, her brown eyes looking at him, hurt.

Alec regretted his choice of words right away. He knew how much Isabelle always tried to please their parents—but no matter what she did, it was never enough to get her the same regard that Jace or Alec received. Instead she mostly got disapproving looks from Maryse because Isabelle liked to dress ‘improperly’ according to her mother—and she always flirted with men that weren’t suitable for her.

“Me too, buddy,” Jace interposed. “Can’t blame you though. The stunt you two pulled was actually really cool.”

Isabelle was silently shaking her head towards Jace.

Jace shrugged. He stood up from the stool and threw himself onto Alec’s couch, putting his feet, with the combat boots, up on the table, earning him another glare from Isabelle.

“Have you spoken to mom and dad yet?” Isabelle asked wary.

“Not since the wedding,” Alec admitted. He tried to sound lighthearted but he couldn’t help his tone sounding bitter and disappointed.

The memories of his parents calling him a disappointment struck him again with full force. Alec would never forget their faces. The way they looked at him when he told them that Aline Penhallow and he wouldn’t get married. Not today. Not ever. His mother had gaped at him waiting for Alec to assure her that he was joking. His father, hands in the pockets of his jacket, had simply frowned and had looked both confused and uncomfortable.

Alec had stood in his tuxedo, hands folded behind his back and shoulders slumped, feeling like a ten year old again in that moment, so small and guilty. Waiting for his punishment. Because if you failed, you had to accept the consequences. That was something that Alec had already learned as a little boy. In his parents’ eyes he had not only torpedoed a promising and important business alliance with the Penhallow’s, he also embarrassed the whole Lightwood family in front of everyone. Especially since reporters from nationwide networks, editors from popular magazines and a lot of paparazzi were about to report on the Lightwood/Penhallow wedding.

Alec was pretty sure that his parents wouldn’t forgive him any time soon for screwing this up.

If at all.

“You need to talk to them, Alec.”

“I don’t think so. Mom made it very clear that I am not their son anymore if I go through with this.”

“So, they are furious with all three of us. Awesome,” Jace joked while making a grimace that made Isabelle smile lopsidedly in spite of everything. “I guess all hope of restoring the family’s honor now lies on Max’ shoulders.”

“Good thing mom and dad don’t have a clue that Max wants to be a writer like his beloved big brother,” Isabelle said, hiding the giggle behind her hand. “And doesn’t waste a single second thinking about taking over dad’s office.”

At the mention of Max, Alec smiled. A smile so bright that it practically lit up the whole room.

Isabelle’s and Alec’s fourteen year old brother Max currently spent his time at a boarding school in Europe. Far away from all the drama. Which was a blessing in Alec’s eyes.

Max, the innocent sunshine of the Lightwood’s, truly didn’t deserve to deal with all the havoc that Aline and Alec had caused by calling off the wedding and everything that followed. Including the wrath of their parents and attention of the media nearly 24/7. The benefits of being the son of a famous corporate lawyer and an ex-fiancée who just had her breakthrough in Hollywood.

Naturally, the cancelled wedding had been the hottest topic of the month. If not of the year. Even now, after weeks, the press was still all over the issue—wondering why Alec Lightwood and Aline Penhallow all of a sudden didn’t tie the knot, since they both seemed to be so perfect for each other. The newest gossip was that he’d cheated on Aline with her agent Helen Blackthorn. He would’ve laughed if the whole thing hadn’t been so absurd.

Alec really hoped that the damn media would concentrate on somebody else’s drama from now on. Especially after he stepped out of the line of fire when moving to New York. Not that he had ever been that interesting to begin with.

“Have you heard anything from Aline lately?” Isabelle asked.

She was leaning, with her hip against the counter, watching her brother fiddle with the coffee machine until it finally started to spill out some very dark brown liquid. Alec’s fondness for black coffee was beyond Isabelle. Especially since the coffee was usually so strong that Isabelle feared she’d get a heart attack one day.

Alec shook his head. The last thing he’d seen of his ex-fiancée was her waving bridal veil when she disappeared through the backdoor of the church to avoid the press—leaving Alec all by himself, trying to let what had just happened sink in.

“Probably hiding somewhere until it all calms down. Same as you, bro.”

Alec had to force himself to not roll his eyes again. “I’m not hiding,” he spat, his jaw clenched. He was so sick of this topic. The constant questions from the press whenever Alec had set a foot outside of the house had already annoyed the hell out of him. Why couldn’t at least his siblings leave him alone? All he wanted was his privacy, dammit.

Isabelle’s eyebrows shot up until they nearly reached her hairline. “Seriously? You moved into this dump in Brooklyn instead of living in mom and dad’s Manhattan loft. You decided to grow stubble. You’re wearing glasses even though you hate them. And still you wanna tell us that you’re not hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” Alec emphasized sharply. Isabelle and Jace were seriously starting to get on his nerves.

He wasn’t hiding. He just wanted his old life back. His boring, calm, mundane life before the huge media hype that had started with the announcement of his engagement to Aline. The life before people suddenly took an interest in him because he also was the oldest son of Maryse and Robert Lightwood. The life where he simply was just somebody who wanted to become a writer. Nothing more. Was that really too much to ask for?

“I hate to break the news to you, Alec, but you totally suck at lying.”

“Probably because I am not lying.”

_“Oh please ...”_ Isabelle tilted her head and made a face, clearly displaying that she didn’t buy his BS for a second.

Apparently it’d been the wrong decision to follow his renegade siblings to New York. Alec should have known that from the start. But living in the same city as Isabelle and Jace seemed like such a good idea. Plus, Alec really missed having them both around. “You just wanna keep an eye on us, big brother,” Isabelle had teased when he’d told her about his plans. Which was true—Alec hadn’t even try to deny that. But mostly he wanted to get away from his parents and their reproachful faces. Alec just couldn’t take it a day longer. All these angry looks and the unspoken accusations that he’d ruined the family name, the reputation of the law office and first and foremost his own life, too.

Calling off the wedding had been the final straw on a list of things Alec had recently done to piss off his parents.

Instead of becoming a part of the law office after college, Alec had decided to pursue a career in writing. Something his parents had never quite accepted until this day. An author. His mother had repressed hysterical laughter when he’d told her. Especially since a few days earlier Jace, the golden boy, had blurted out that he wanted to work in a gym from now on. Alec could have sworn Maryse was about to faint when she heard the news. Jace, who she secretly loved more than Isabelle and Alec, had let her down, just like her own son. After that bomb had been dropped, Maryse had gone onto a three week spa vacation.

Everything would have been go back to ‘normal’ when Alec had married Aline as planned. Instead he’d fucked up yet again.

“You’ve embarrassed all of us,” his mother had said in cold blood when Alec had left LA. Her words had felt like giant stalactites that rained down on him without any mercy. “I still can’t believe you just did that, Alec. I seriously don’t know what you were thinking.”

Alec had tried to control his heavy breathing. Thankful, yet again, that his mother couldn’t in fact see behind his eyes because that would clearly complicate some things.

“Just admit it, Alec, you’re hiding. I am not blaming you, bro. Honestly.”

He rubbed with his hand over his face. “If it makes you happy, Jace,” Alec surrendered. “Fine. I’m hiding.”

Jace and Isabelle exchanged knowing looks.

Alec closed his eyes, massaging his temples. When was this day supposed to be over? Seriously?!

“Do you really think that this new look of yours will help you to fall under the radar of these nasty paparazzi?” Jace asked. He didn’t really look very convinced.

Alec sighed. “Well, they haven’t paid attention to me these last two weeks, have they?”

“Probably because you’ve avoided all social interaction when hiding on my couch 24/7,” Jace deadpanned.

“I think he looks hot,” Isabelle declared. She stood in front of Alec, eyeing him from top to bottom. “But you really should get rid of these awful sweaters you love to wear. Especially when they have holes like this one.” She pulled at a hole in his left sleeve, making soft tsk noises. “You look like you’re homeless.”

Alec blinked. He looked horrified. “Uhm … what?”

“Oh c’mon big brother. Take a look into the mirror. Aside from your lack of style, you totally have this tall, dark and brooding look going on. Mysterious and sexy but also dorky with those glasses. It’s cute. I am pretty sure there are a lot of—“

“I think I’ve got your point, Izzy,” Alec cut in before his sister got on a total roll and wouldn’t shut up for another ten minutes.

Jace swung his feet off of the coffee table and put on his leather jacket. A big smirk on his lips.

Alec wanted to strangle him. This was _not funny_! Not. At. All. Seriously, he should have moved to Antarctica. His siblings had way too much fun mocking him. As usual.

“I’m just saying that you should go out more,” Isabelle said, head high and hands on her hips. Even though she wore like eight inch heels she barely reached up to Alec’s chin. And he so didn’t wanna get into a fight with her when she looked like that, all determined.

Jace snickered quietly. “I had to force him to go to the gym with me, Iz. Do you really think he will leave his desk to attend a party?”

Isabelle actually had the nerve to chuckle. “Well, for a start there is this art exhibition next weekend that the mother of a girl I briefly know from campus is throwing and she—“

“You two. Shut up! Seriously.” Alec took a deep breath. “Just shut up!”

Isabelle pouted. “Ah, but you love us anyway.”

“Not sure about that,” Alec muttered but couldn’t hide the tiny smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He may be a serious and closed-off guy to everyone else but when it came to his siblings he was a total softie. They all knew it.

“You can’t close yourself off forever, Alec.” His sister’s voice sounded insistently. It was like a shadow flitted above her usual cheerful face with those fiery eyes and her deep red lips. “I know you’re hurt because of what mom and dad said. I get it. You know, they didn’t speak to me for a whole month when I told them I was going to Columbia instead of Berkley as they’d planned, and become a doctor. But they got over it eventually.”

“I fucked up their plan for my life, Izzy. They will never speak to me again. I promise you that.”

“Is that why you’ve come here and rented this apartment? To prove to them that you can make it on your own? Well, you know mom and dad will flip when they find out that the precious heir of the Lightwood law office is living in this dump. In Brooklyn,” Isabelle added and she made it sound like he was in fact living in the gutter. Which—according to their snobbish parents—pretty much was the truth.

Alec grimaced. “They will probably have a heart attack when I tell them that I have a job in a coffee shop a few blocks from here too.”

“A coffee shop?”

“You told me like two minutes ago to be more social.” Besides, he needed the money to pay the rent since he swore off his parent’s money when he walked out of the Lightwood mansion. Even if his writing career failed miserably, he would not come crawling back to their feet. Not after everything that had happened.

“Yeah, but I meant going to a party. To meet people. Cute—“

“And I can’t do that in a coffee shop?” He interrupted his sister, scowling.

Isabelle pressed her lips together. “Being your normal stuttering and blushing self, you won’t get a single word out. You’re so oblivious when it comes to flirting, Alec, you wouldn’t even notice it if it bit you in the ass.”

Alec’s cheek turned beet-red. _Shit._

“See,” Isabelle triumphed, way too complacent.

Normally Alec would envy Isabelle because of her confidence but right now she just annoyed him. Probably because she knew him too well.

“I hate you.” Alec finished his coffee and put the cup in the sink. Casting a long and accusatory glance towards Jace who desperately fought off a grin. And failed. “Both.”

“Hey, I haven’t said a single word,” Jace said.

“You’ve laughed.”

“Yeah, well, because Izzy’s got a point, bro.”

Alec rolled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was the first chapter. 
> 
> What do you guys think of it so far?  
> Let me know here or over at my [tumblr](http://sweetautumnleaves.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I am currently writing the next chapter--in which you'll get to know Magnus finally. For those wondering why he hasn't appeared yet: My awesome beta said it would work better to end the chapter this way. So, blame her, I am innocent here. :D
> 
> Right now I don't have an update schedule. But comments and kudos will definitely help me to write faster. I think. Or just come and scream at me over at my tumblr. Either way, I try to update on a "regular" basis, maybe every 2 weeks. We'll see how that'll work out.
> 
> Until next time, pumpkins,  
> A.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus Bane is back in NYC. A circumstance he is about to regret. Unless...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look who is updating.  
> I am SO sorry that it took me so long to update, pumpkins. I really don't have a good excuse. Except that at first I may have watched too much of the Olympics in Rio and then I got an infection of both of my eyes. You can imagine my enthusiasm. Sigh.
> 
> Anyway, here is finally chapter 2. You are going to meet Magnus. Yay! 
> 
> Thanks to [scathachbane](http://scathachbane.tumblr.com/) and [I-know-my-value](http://i-know-my-value.tumblr.com/) who are the best betas one can wish for. You both are amazing and I wouldn't be here without you!
> 
> FYI: English is still not my native language!

Magnus didn’t like it when people let him wait. Actually, he hated it. Not only was it beyond unprofessional but even more than that, it was annoying. This was exactly the reason why Magnus didn’t work with tardy amateurs—at least not if he could avoid it. He simply didn’t have the time for this bullshit. Nor the patience. 

He was Magnus freaking Bane! 

You simply don’t let Magnus Bane wait for you.

Apparently you did. For over fifteen minutes. Which was not acceptable. Not at all. Especially since his flight from Singapore had already been delayed for nearly two hours. Yet he was still standing in that crowded terminal at JFK like an idiot who’d got lost, watching people pass him by, greetings and goodbyes floating through the sticky air around him. 

Magnus let out an exaggerated sigh. He was pretty certain, looking up and down his crumpled clothes, that right now he clearly looked like somebody who didn’t get much sleep at all. Or someone who had slept under a bridge these last two days. He could feel that his, once precisely applied, eyeliner was totally smeared. A bad copy of a sad panda. The glittering dark green eyeshadow had already gone hours ago, judging by the remnants Magnus had found on his fingertips. 

To say that he was getting slightly annoyed—not just by his awful appearence but, even more so, because of the waiting—was the understatement of the year. He yearned for a hot shower and a whisky. No, scratch that. Make it the whole bottle that was waiting for him at his loft. If he ever got there in this lifetime that is. 

He probably should have called a cab minutes ago. With the usual traffic in New York, it still would’ve taken him at least an hour to get home. But Catarina had sounded so eager to pick him up when she called him two days ago that Magnus just couldn’t say no to that. Besides, he’d somewhat missed her all these months he’d been gone. She’d also teased that she had some big news and couldn’t wait to share it with him. Even after begging and pouting (he hated being left in the dark so much) she hadn’t spilled a single word. Unbelievable. Catarina sure knew how she always got to him. It’d happened way too often in the past. Mostly because Magnus was just too curious for his own good. 

But there was still no sign of Catarina. Magnus hoped for her sake that she hadn’t truly forgotten about him. If so he never would speak to her again. Ever.

“MAGNUS!”

He wheeled around when he heard someone calling out his name. A petite woman with long, vibrant red hair came running towards him, waving like crazy. 

Magnus squinted his eyes. Clary? What was Clary doing here?

“There you are,” Clary said out of breath. She propped her hands on her thighs, panting heavily. “We’ve been looking for you since forever.”

Magnus arched his eyebrow. “Well, here I am indeed. You, by the way, are late, Biscuit.” 

Clary forced herself to smile but it turned out to be more of a grimace. “Welcome back, Magnus. Good to see you again. It’s been a while.” 

She threw herself in his arms and hugged him dearly. Magnus shook his head fondly, ignoring the fact that she was wearing her denim jumpsuit that had splashes of undried paint all over it. It clearly didn’t matter. He looked like a mess anyhow. 

“So, where is Catarina? She was supposed to pick me up. Not that I’m not delighted to see you, Biscuit.”

“Something very important came up. I think.” It was obvious how uncomfortable she felt admitting it, biting her lips and avoiding Magnus’ eyes.

“ _You think?_ Like more important than picking up her most valued photographer and friend?” Magnus asked, snorting as if he was clearly offended. “Well, with friends like that, you don’t need enemies, I suppose.”

Clary tried to bite back a smile. “Don’t be such a drama queen, Mags.”

Magnus waved her off with a flourish. “Biscuit, don’t ever call me Mags again. Seriously.”

“But it’s cute,” she pouted. “Don’t you think?”

Magnus glared at her. “Biscuit is cute. Mags is just—”

“Not very flattering?” A male voice cut in from behind Clary that Magnus hadn’t spotted yet. The guy was of average height with short brown hair, brown eyes and thick-rimmed glasses that screamed ‘nerd’ from a mile away. He also wore a T-shirt that said ‘I’m in a band’. Fascinating.

“Oh, you’ve brought a friend.” Magnus said in an overly gushy voice that was so fake that Clary had to force herself to not roll her eyes.

“You know Simon.”

“I do? Is he your boyfriend? Because I don’t remember him. Or you ever talking about him.”

Clary patted Magnus on his stomach. He yelped. “Simon is not my boyfriend. He works at _Pandemonium_ , too. He’s a film critic there.”

“Hm, if you say so.” Suddenly his face changed and it dawned on him. “Oh, the nerdy guy with all the movie posters on the wall of his booth and the weird habit of quoting movie lines everytime you meet him in the hall? I thought his name is Sherwin.”

“Very funny,” Simon chimed in. “Why are we picking him up again?” He whispered into Clary’s ear but Magnus still overheard him talking. Probably because he had ears like a lynx, as Clary had always suspected.

“Because your boss asked us to.”

“I should have said no,” Simon sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose.

Magnus ignored him. “So what is this big emergency?”

“I don’t know. Catarina just called Simon before she went off on a conference call, telling him that we both should go and pick you up from the airport. That’s all. Oh, and that you should come and see her as soon as you’d landed. No excuses. It sounded urgent though.”

Magnus huffed. “Of course.” 

He knew Catarina. Every damn thing was urgent to her. Especially regarding her work as a publisher for one of the biggest people magazines in the country. If you didn’t hand in your stuff five minutes before the deadline, she sure as hell would lose her mind. Afterwards she would rip you into tiny pieces, if you were lucky enough. 

Still to this day, Magnus didn’t understand how it was possible that he and Catarina were friends. Catarina was such a control freak. And he was ... a free thinker at best. Although to be honest, she threatened to end their friendship more than once in the past because apparently “he was terrible to work with.” Magnus took that as a compliment. He simply was the best. No need for false modesty.

“Seriously, how was she able to survive without me this past year?”

“Probably better than he thinks,” Simon murmured. 

Clary stifled a laugh.

“Salmon, why don’t you take care of my luggage instead of staying there like a frozen Han Solo?”

Simon’s eyes literally popped out of his head. “He knows _Star Wars_?” He looked at Magnus like he just saw a mirage.

Magnus shook his head and wrapped an arm around Clary. “So tell me, Biscuit, what did I miss while being on a sabbatical? Any scandals or love stories that I need to know of?”

Clary smiled. “You do know that you could’ve easily bought any magazine during your trip, right?”

“What’s the point in taking a year off if I’m going to spend it reading the latest gossip? I wanted to clear my head and not read about some Hollywood diva who married her latest boytoy after three weeks.”

Clary threw her head back and laughed. A noise so wonderful that it warmed Magnus’ heart. He had truly missed this girl.

“Guys,” Simon exclaimed. “Some help here?” He pointed to the mountainous pile of glittering and sparkling bags and suitcases.

Magnus glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sure you can handle it, Seamus. You’re a big boy.” Which wasn’t even a lie. Despite Simon’s geeky looks, Magnus had totally noticed the broad back and the quite impressive biceps under the plaid shirt that Simon wore.

“It’s Simon!”

“Magnus, be nice.” Clary chastised him.

He gasped and put a hand on his heard, feigning hurt. “I am, Biscuit. So are we taking a cab?”

“Well ... actually, we came in Simon’s van since he has to be at band practice afterwards.”

Magnus’ eyes went wide and he gulped. A van. Oh, dear lord. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse. “Very well,” he sighed, defeated. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”

“But you’ve just landed. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to drink before seeing Catarina.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Magnus nodded. “Make that the whole bottle.”

Clary stared at him in utter disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

“Thank you, my dear. I take that as a genuine compliment,” he replied cheerfully, while heading towards the exit with Clary by his side. “You coming, Sean?”

“You’re not even trying anymore, are you?” Simon shouted scowling and followed them with the baggage cart, grumbling to himself.

Magnus grinned. He really started to like this guy.

*#*#*

“I can’t believe you ordered yet another scotch.” Clary gaped at Magnus, who already had three empty glasses standing in front of him on the counter, obviously contemplating if she should laugh or continue shaking her head. “It’s barely four in the afternoon.”

“Well, it’s Happy Hour somewhere, my dear.” Magnus winked. 

They were sitting in a newly opened bar named _Hunter’s Moon_ , only two blocks away from Magnus’ penthouse. The bar had big display windows that illuminated the front room where the bar counter, with several stools and some wooden tables and chairs in pairs, was situated. Through a spiral staircase you could reach a second room, with dark leather armchairs, couches and modern chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, that mirrored some kind of lounge atmosphere.

Simon had dropped them both off here because he needed to attend band practice. Which may explain why he had rushed through the streets of Brooklyn as if lightning was about to strike him. Magnus had been sitting in the front seat of Simon’s van, trying his best to fix his messy eyeliner and re-apply some lip gloss, after he had looked into the mirror and nearly had a heart attack. Of course Simon hadn’t cared for Magnus’ plea to take a pill and relax. He’d continued to constantly brake sharply so that Magnus’ head jerked forwards every single time. After messing up his lip gloss for the fifth time, Magnus had given up and just prayed that he would survive this wild ride. Never in his life was he going to get back in that van. No chance. Not even if his life depended on it.

Magnus took a sip of his drink that the cute bartender had just served him. She had curly, brown hair and her light brown skin had a beautiful glow. Even standing behind the clunky bar Magnus noticed her incredible hourglass figure. What a beauty.

“You’re done staring?” The bartender suddenly asked, dark brown eyes narrowed and arms folded. 

“I’m sorry I stared, my dear. But as a photographer, it’s hard to ignore someone as beautiful as you are,” Magnus confessed with a mischievous smile.

The girl faked a yawn. “Has this lame pick-up line ever actually worked for you?”

Clary choked on her orange juice and tried to bite back a laugh. She failed miserably.

Magnus ran his finger over the rim of his glass, sulking. 

The bartender raised her left eyebrow. “Is he always like that?” She asked and nodded with her head towards Magnus, who made some _hmpf_ noises.

Clary laughed. “Pretty much. Though he really is a photographer,” she added swiftly and patted Magnus’ forearm. 

“Nice of you to point that out, Biscuit.” He said, wiping with his index finger some nonexistent glitter out of the corner of his eye. 

Clary laid her head on his shoulder. “I love you, too, Magnus.”

The girl behind the bar frowned. “Well. Whatever. Tell your boyfriend I’m not interested.”

Magnus chuckled.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Clary blurted out, making a disgusted face. She fidgeted with her hands to accompany her words. Magnus had to move away from her a little because he feared she might’ve slapped him otherwise. She may be tiny but he remembered that she had a pretty good right hook.

“If you tell her it is because I’m too old,” Magnus threw in with a blasé voice, “I’m going to shoot you.”

Clary tilted her head. She crossed her arms, casting an annoyed glance towards Magnus. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

Magnus shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. “What can I say? I’m magnificent.”

Clary snorted. “Seriously, why do you wanna get me a boyfriend so badly?”

“Well, for a start, I thought that you and Sherwin—“

“His name is Simon, Magnus. And you know that!”

“Yeah, whatever. So, what is it with you and that _Simon_?” Magnus underlined, fiddling with the rings on his left hand. He stared at his most precious ring. The band was made of platinum, jeweled with three small-sized deep blue sapphires. He had bought that piece of jewellery after getting his first cover picture. It had been his lucky charm ever since.

Clary exhaled the breath she was holding. “You sound like Luke. Jeez. Simon is my friend. My best friend to be precise. Which you would have known if you had paid any attention to anything other than your work these last few years.”

Magnus scrunched his nose. “When did you become such a smartass?”

“Well, for a start, I am not a little girl anymore. And, I’ve clearly learned from the best,” Clary replied dryly, batting her lashes. “Besides, just the thought of me and Simon...” She shuddered in disgust. “That would be like dating my non-existent brother. Or you.”

“Thanks. You certainly have a way of making me feel good.”

“Oh, stop it! You are unbelievable good looking, amazing, funny, awesome, clever, a hell of a photographer, a true friend, ...”

Magnus laid a hand on his heart, truly touched. “My dear, I might start crying any minute. Which probably will ruin the last bit of my eye make-up.”

Clary made a sly lopsided grin. “Magnus, you’ve been my friend for a very long time, but I won’t tell you again that you are handsome, even with ruined eyeliner.”

Magnus’ eyes went wide. He sucked in sharp breath. “Is it that bad? Fuck. Where is the restroom?”

“Would you please stop? You look fabulous!”

“Seriously?”

“Fabulous enough to see Catarina at least.”

“You are such a buzz kill, Biscuit. So, about Simon...”

“Wait—are you two talking about that nerdy guy who dropped you and your mountain high pile of glittery glitter that blocked, like, half of the entrance door off earlier?” The bartender asked, her tone very keen, while leaning over the counter. She suddenly seemed to have totally forgotten about the glasses she was supposed to finish cleaning before the rush of working New Yorkers barged into the _Hunter’s Moon_ in a little while.

Magnus and Clary looked at each other, mouths agape, before they nodded simultaneously.

“ _He_ was, like, so cute.” The girl gushed as her eyes lit up. Magnus actually expected her to start drooling at any second. 

Apparently nerdy guys had become a hot thing while he had been away. And even if Simon was so not his type, Magnus got the whole nerd-hot-appeal of course. Probably better than that Simon boy himself, who clearly hadn’t noticed the pretty blonde guy at the airport who had checked out Simon when he wasn’t looking. Or the two girls who were about to trip over their own feet when staring at his ass while Simon was loading Magnus’s suitcase into the van.

“If you like, you can give me your name so he can add you on Facebook,” Clary offered with a wink. Her smile was so broad that it nearly reached her earlobes. “He’s single, you know?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“He is?” 

Two seconds later, the brown haired girl handed Clary a coaster with her name on it. 

Maia Roberts. 

“Facebook?” Magnus huffed. “How romantic.”

“Ignore him. He just had a long flight and is hoping to get drunk before meeting his boss.”

Magnus gulped the last of his scotch. “Catarina is not my boss.”

“You work for her.”

“Exactly. I am a freelancer.”

Clary rolled her eyes. “Fine. She will still kill you if you end up drunk in her office. Just saying.”

“I don’t get drunk. Ever.” Magnus snorted. 

“If you say so. Correct me if I am wrong, but who ended up on our doorstep once, drunk, and nearly puking his life out after Camille dumped him?”

Magnus narrowed his eyes, gasping. “Biscuit, you are no longer one of my favorite people in the world.”

“Awww. But mom wanted me to invite you over for dinner for tomorrow.”

“I’m not coming. Because of you.”

Clary snickered. “The more important question is: Will you still be alive after Catarina is done with you?”

“Don’t underestimate my charm.”

“You mean that same charm that worked so perfectly well with Maia?”

Magnus looked at Clary, his lips pursed. “Not talking to you anymore.”

Clary giggled.

*#*#*

There were noises. Some seriously loud, annoying hammering.

Magnus groaned and pressed his eyes shut. Silence. He exhaled, relieved. Until the uproar started again. _What the fuck...?_ Couldn’t his next room neighbor leave him to sleep in peace for at least one night? Instead of constantly fucking his brains out? Very audibly of course. He was acting like he was the only guest in that hotel, and didn’t care that every other guest had to listen to the fact that he was having some amazing sex in that room of his.

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

Magnus fished blindly for a pillow to put above his face, trying desperately to go back to sleep. Which wasn’t possible since the noise became even louder. It actually sounded like somebody was smashing a thick brick wall right next to Magnus’ ears. Was his neighbor planning on coming right through the wall with his bedframe?

Suddenly something kind of furry was brushing against Magnus’ hands. He frowned mechanically. Maybe he was dreaming. Actually, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. Because he could have sworn he’d heard a purr, too. Which was not possible. Animals weren’t allowed in this 5 star hotel where he was staying. Only loud banging against the wall, apparently.

Magnus pressed his face deeper into the pillow. But the purring continued. At least the knocking had stopped. In lieu thereof, there was now a throbbing pain behind his forehead. 

_Great._

Exasperated, Magnus threw away the pillow and opened his eyes. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t in that hotel room anymore. In fact, he was at home, lying on his big, dark purple, leather couch. Bright, dazzling sunlight was streaming through the floor to ceiling windows of his penthouse, fine dust particles dancing in the air.

Magnus blinked. So it had been a dream after all. Thank God. Although he was still wondering how the hell he ended up lying on his couch. The last thing he remembered was that he had been with Clary. Right. They had had some drinks in this new bar after he had landed. Well, only he had had a drink because Clary had been a party pooper. As always. And fine, he had approximately more than one drink. 

He turned his head, gazing at a half empty bottle of whisky that stood on his glass coffee table. Maybe he had celebrated being home again a bit too much, and later he had fallen asleep on his couch. And...

Magnus lifted his head, as much as was possible while still lying on his back, and stared directly into two yellow-green cat eyes. The feline was lying on his chest, devotedly licking his paw while looking at Magnus like he was the most stupid person on this planet.

“Chairman Meow!” Magnus beamed, patting the soft head of the gray tabby cat who instantly started to purr. “I’ve missed you so much, my darling.” He grabbed the Chairman who went willingly into his hands and pressed his face in the soft fur of the cat.

“Oh good, you are alive and breathing. I was starting to get a bit worried.”

Magnus jumped up at that voice. The feline hissed and instantly fled under the couch, cat eyes glowing accusingly from down there.

“You know, I could have died right next to you and you wouldn’t have open your eyes at all. But once your cat purrs, you are wide awake. I’m honestly offended.”

“Catarina?” Magnus frowned and squinted his eyes because the morning sun was blinding him. “What are you doing here?” He rubbed his forehead, the growing headache about to kill him any second. His mouth felt like something had died in it. Good lord, he really shouldn’t drink so much anymore. He was most certainly too old to be having a hangover like this.

“You remember me. Impressive.” 

Catarina was sitting on a barstool in Magnus’ open-plan kitchen and tapping steadfastly on the marble kitchen island with her long nails. That scratchy noise annoyed Magnus to no end and he whined silently.

“Could you lower your voice, please?” Magnus grimaced. 

“That bad, huh?”

“Don’t pretend as if you care. Because we all know that you don’t give a fuck how I’m feeling right now.”

“True.” Catarina agreed, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It was pretty obvious that she enjoyed the fact that he was suffering. Very much. “Well, I could try and feign some sympathy for your sorry ass...but no. No can do.”

“You suck as a friend,” Magnus grumbled, falling head first back onto the couch and burying his face under various pillows and blankets.

“And you as my employee,” she deadpanned.

“I’m _not_ your em-ploy-ee!” Magnus voiced from under the mountains of plush, sounding like a recalcitrant teenager. “I am a freelancer.”

“Who still works for _Pandemonium_. Meaning: For me.”

A choked scream was audible. 

Catarina smiled and studied her fingernails that were painted with a cool, light sandy nail polish that contrasted beautiful with her dark brown skin. She was wearing a fitted white pantsuit, and her long hair, which had the color of ebony, was combed back into a severe bun. Every fibre of her yelled _don’t mess with me_ and she was damn proud of it. She had worked hard to get where she was now, at the top of one of the most popular and highest ranked magazines in the country. And even though she was friends with one Magnus Bane, she wouldn’t let him get away this time.

Magnus peeked from under a blanket. “You’re still here.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. But as you may or may not remember after washing away the rest of your brain cells with your expensive bourbon, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, I guess I tried to ignore that part.”

“I noticed. You should have come to my office as soon as you landed!”

“The way I was looking after that horrible flight? No way!” 

Catarina crossed her arms, lips pursed. She gave Magnus a warning look, like he better not gave her anymore of his bullshit. “Well, it clearly didn’t stop you from getting a drink, did it?”

“I’m gonna kill Simon,” Magnus mumbled, getting up. He shuffled into the kitchen, looking for some Tylenol. He felt like crap. Like he just got run over by a truck several times. After he found the painkiller in a top drawer, he poured himself a glass of water and drowned them.

“Oh, the poor guy didn’t say a word,” Catarina corrected and shoved a tall coffee-to-go-cup, which she seemed to have conjured out of thin air, in Magnus’ direction. “You just seem to forget that I know you. Unfortunately.”

_“Hmpf.”_ Magnus made a face, grabbed the paper cup and took a sip. Hot, delicious Caffè Americano. He had to bite his lip not to moan. Catarina was a goddess. Not that he would tell her that, she would kick his ass anyhow. At least he was now slightly more prepared for that, thanks to her. 

Magnus was pretty certain that he still looked like a trainwreck in his crumpled clothes. Since he had been fallen asleep on the couch last night, he also hadn’t taken off his make-up. His necklaces had left marks on his chest, and his hair was probably looking like some kind of birds nest. He would do anything for a nice, hot shower. But Catarina really didn’t look like she would postpone their talk for another minute. _Awesome._

Chairman Meow hopped on the counter, making Catarina screech. “Dammit, Magnus. I swear your cat will scare me to death one day.”

“Excuse me? The Chairman couldn’t hurt a fly. Besides,” Magnus smirked, “you’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“Hardly.” Catarina eyed the feline suspiciously. The cat purred as Magnus petted his fur absentmindedly. “Let me make this clear: I will never ever baby-sit that demon again. Not even when you give me your damn puppy eyes.”

“You make it sound like the Chairman is an actual baby that needs to be pampered.”

“Have you met your cat? It’s a spawn of the devil. No wonder you’re still single.”

“I just have high standards.”

“You have a devilish cat, that’s what you have.”

Magnus chuckled. “Good thing we’re not dating then. I don’t date anybody my cat doesn’t like.”

“Well, I most definitely do not need any more love confessions that involve hissing and/or scratching at me. You owe me, Bane, you really do.”

“Hm, I clearly pictured you as a cat-lover, Cat.” Magnus hid his smug face behind the coffee cup.

Catarina straightened up, putting her hands on her knees and glaring at Magnus like she was about to strangle him. “Shut up, or I start to call you Maggy.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Magnus drank up his Americano and sighed. As much as he would like to simply go back to bed to sleep off his hangover, he knew Catarina wouldn’t leave before they had that _talk_. A talk that was so important to her that she had even left her shiny Manhattan office and come all the way to Brooklyn. Which said a lot. If he didn’t know better, Magnus would have imagined her to be married to _Pandemonium_. Her baby. Her everything. 

He understood her passion for that magazine. Before Catarina had taken over the position as chief editor, _Pandemonium_ had been pretty much dead as a doornail. The whole look of that magazine had been awful, the so called articles and stories were badly written, the photographs and the art department were equally terrible, and it had lousy sales figures. When Catarina had told him four years ago that she was about to take over that magazine, Magnus had thought she was joking.

She hadn’t been.

From there on Catarina had totally rocked that whole print business. Currently she was #17 of the most influental women in the USA. And Magnus was very proud of her. Not only because she was incredible at her job, but she was also a true friend who hadn’t hestitated for a single second when he had asked her to take care of Chairman Meow while he went on his sabbatical.

“So, let’s talk business. I am guessing that is why you grace me with your presence? Or did you just miss my fabulous self?”

Catarina raised her eyebrows, sneering. “Why would I have missed you? Honestly, not having you around 24/7 was a blessing.”

“Aw. I missed you, too, my dear.” Magnus blew her a kiss.

She shook her head, smiling. “Anyway, now that you’re back, I need to ask you a favor. A huge one.”

“Very forward. I always liked that quality in you.” Magnus put the paper cup in the trash can and sauntered back to his couch. He sat down and swung his legs onto the coffee table, Chairman Meow already lying beside him, waiting to be petted again. When Magnus didn’t comply, the tabby cat arched his back, looking very miffed, before strolling to his basket.

“You’re not saying no from the beginning?” Catarina asked wary. She followed Magnus to the living room area, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. “What happened to you?” 

“You sound as if I always say no when you ask me for something.” Catarina gave him a knowing glance. Magnus sighed. “Fine, you’re may be right on this one. But we both know that you’re gonna tell me either way. Whether I want to hear it or not.”

“True.” She nodded and sat down in an armchair, facing Magnus. “I know that you most definitely won’t like what I am about to ask you to do, because it doesn’t satisfy your claims as a photographer. I get that. I do. But you are my best man, Magnus, and I really need you to do this for me.”

“Jeez, Catarina. What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure? You sound as if you broke into a bank.”

“Stop it.”

Magnus raised his hands apologetic. “Alright. So, what’s it gonna be? Another shoot with some bitchy teenage models? Please don’t. You know how much I hate doing that.”

Catarina laughed. “Relax, it’s nothing like that.”

“Oh?”

“Actually,” she said and leaned back, her slender legs crossed. “I need you to take some pictures of someone for the newest issue of _Pandemonium_.”

Magnus gawped at her. Then he started to laugh. “You know that I’m a photographer, right? Taking somebody’s picture is kind of my job.”

Catarina rolled her eyes. “Yes. I know _that_. But this one is _a little bit different_.”

“Different how?”

“Well... I want pictures of Alec Lightwood.”

Magnus breathed deeply, trying hard not to sulk. A photo shoot. A boring photo session with a random guy. That clearly sounded like a lot of fun. Except not. At least Catarina had spared him from doing a photo shoot with an annoying supermodel, because Magnus really loathed working with them. Pretty much every single one of these girls had a serious lack of attitude towards his fabulous self, and tended to treat him like he didn’t know how to do his job. When in fact, he had been longer in that business than these girls put together.

“I see. Have you already fixed a day for the shoot?” Magnus asked. He started to fiddle with his necklaces again, wondering why the heck Catarina came to him of all people. It wasn’t like he was the only available photographer who could get this job done. He might just be the best.

“No.”

“Alright, I’ll tell my assistent Maureen to get in contact with the manager of this Lightwood person and make an appointment for the shooting.” 

“That’s sort of the problem.”

Of course there was a catch. Magnus knew it. He fucking knew it. There always was one when Catarina came to him with a ‘teeny-tiny-favor’. “What problem?”

“Alec Lightwood has been missing.”

Magnus tilted his head and squinted his eyes. “Missing? As in _missing_ missing?”

Catarina suddenly looked very uncomfortable. It was obvious that she wished that this talk was over already. “Well, more like disappeared.”

“So, what exactly do you need me for? I am a photographer, not a police officer.”

“You clearly have no idea who Alec Lightwood is, right?” She snorted.

“Should I?” Magnus retorted, sounding very bored of this conversation. 

As a matter of fact, he really wasn’t intrigued to find out who Alec Lightwood was. He had never heard that name before, true, and Magnus knew a lot of people. That came with his job. Which most likely meant that Mister Alec Lightwood wasn’t that important or interesting to begin with. Hence, Magnus didn’t care.

“You’re unbelievable, Bane.” Catarina stood up and started to pace along Magnus’ living room. “Alec Lightwood is the eldest son of Robert Lightwood, a famous corporate lawyer whose client list consists of pretty much every big company of the country. Heard of him?”

Magnus pretended to think sharp. Then he shook his head. “No.”

“Unbelievable,” she repeated. Catarina squared her shoulders, continuing her lecture. “A few weeks ago, Alec Lightwood was supposed to marry Aline Penhallow, a talented young Asian actress who has become everybody’s darling this past year. Alec and Aline have known each other for years, and even though there were rumors that the whole marriage had been arranged by their parents, those two seemed pretty much in love nonetheless. Whenever they appeared on the red carpet together—which was rare—there was such a buzz, you have no idea.”

“Catarina? Get to the point please. You’re boring me.”

“As I was trying to say, the wedding was supposed to be the social event of the year. TV networks, magazines, dozens of paparazzi—everybody was there to report about this glamourous occasion. Seriously, I can’t believe you haven’t heard about it until now. Where have you been hiding during your sabbatical? In a cave or something?”

Magnus scrunched his nose, oppressing a yawn. “So let me guess: The wedding was called off? Big shocker.”

“Indeed. But I am only just getting to the interesting part of that story. Because not only is everybody puzzled about why exactly the wedding was cancelled in the first place, but both Alec and Aline seem have been swallowed up by the earth ever since. Nobody has seen them or has any idea where they are now. Though there are a few rumors that Aline is hiding somewhere in Australia before she starts filming again in a few months.”

“Fascinating. I am still not sure what you want from me.”

Catarina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “To cut a long story short: Find Alec Lightwood and get some pictures of him. That’s all.”

Magnus blinked in disbelief. For a second he actually contemplated drinking the rest of the whisky, despite his headache. “You kidding, right?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you lost your mind? No, seriously. Are you crazy? I’m Magnus Bane, a well-known and respected photographer—not a fucking paparazzo!”

“I never said that you are.” 

“What do you think this is then? Please enlighten me, my dear friend.”

Catarina gracefully took a seat again, checking her phone, which she had silenced earlier, for new calls and messages. She sighed. There was a lot of catching up to do once she was done with Magnus. “Well for a start, I wouldn’t have come to you if I had another option. Trust me.”

“Why don’t you hire somebody else for this job? I am almost certain there are a lot of so called photographers who would take this job willingly and without any qualms.”

“I have some principles too, thank you very much. Otherwise I wouldn’t be where I am right now. Besides, don’t you think I have tried that already?”

“And?”

“Nothing. Nobody has seen him since the wedding. The last picture of him was at LAX about three weeks ago.”

Which meant that Alec Lightwood could be anywhere. 

Against his will, Magnus was genuinely impressed. If what Catarina had told him was true, it must’ve cost Alec Lightwood a lot of effort and thought to hide completely from the bloodhounds of the press for so long. Especially considering his family ties and former relationship with a Hollywood actress.

“Do I really have to beg?” Catarina asked, her tone a mixture of annoyance and exasperation.

Magnus fiddled with his rings. “Well, you can try. The answer is still no.”

“Magnus, come on. It’s really not such a big deal. _Pandemonium_ just needs a good lead again—and finding out where Alec Lightwood has been hiding and what he has been up to lately would be a fantastic story. _Please?_ ”

“Are you seriously giving me puppy eyes?” Magnus chuckled. “You must be really desperate.”

“Hey, we’re friends, remember? I did baby-sit your damn cat for a whole year while you went sightseeing. That equals at least one huge favor from your side.”

“I didn’t go _sightseeing_. I took a sabbatical. Which was actually work related.” Magnus commented snarkily. 

Which was the plain truth. Of course Magnus had mostly taken the sabbatical to clear his head and to recharge his batteries. He had been so sick of his job back then that he just needed a break from it all. All those models had started to look the same, the bright lights in the photo studios gave him headaches (and really weren’t that awesome for his skin as a matter of fact). He had kind of felt like he was trapped in a cage. Doing the same stuff over and over and over again.

When Magnus had complained about that to his old friend Jocelyn, Clary’s mom, she had suggested that he should go and take a trip around the world. Visiting and seeing other places, people and cultures. “Maybe that will help to get your head back in the game,” Jocelyn had said with a wink. Magnus had laughed at first. But the more he had thought about it, the more he had liked that plan. Especially since Jocelyn had offered him a photo exhibition once he was been back in NYC. 

Three days later Magnus was on a plane straight to Europe.

Catarina massaged her temples with her fingertips. “You enjoy giving me a hard time, right?” She breathed out, shaking her head.

“Well, I could lie...but then again...yes, I do. Since it is normally your job.”

“God, I hate you right now.”

Magnus dragged himself to his feet. He sashayed through his living room. Chairman Meow was back at his feet, brushing his legs with his tail. He took a long glance out of the windows, over the Brooklyn Bridge in the late morning sun, his back towards Catarina. Magnus may have seen a lot of the world during this past year but he would never get sick of that view. Brooklyn was his home. And it always would be. 

“I just don’t get it,” he stated, turning around with a flourish. “What is so special about this offspring of a corporate lawyer?”

Catarina sighed. “I just feel that there is more behind it that meets the eye. I mean why do you suddenly break up with your beautiful fiancée on your wedding day? With almost the whole world watching you? What happened in that church? There has to be an answer to that, Magnus. I just know it.”

“Knowing you, that must have been really bugging you ever since,” Magnus deadpanned, smirking.

“Trust me, it has been. The whole media circus is still trying to figure it out. We’ve all got nothing so far. Which is unbelievable. It’s like this whole thing was planned from the beginning.”

Magnus shrugged. “Maybe it was.” 

“Yeah, not buying that for a second. Even if the media is already concentrating on this new teenage pop princess, who got caught two days ago kissing her best female childhood friend when she actually has a boyfriend.”

Magnus’ head jerked up, his eyes glowing. “Oh, a bi girl? Now we are talking.”

Catarina raised her hand, smiling. “We’ve got this covered. Apparently she likes the attention of the press slightly more than one Alec Lightwood.”

“Too bad. But just out of curiosity: Where do you think this Lightwood person is hiding? I mean he could be anywhere.”

“New York.” She said quick as a shot. Catarina leaned back, her arms folded, while watching Magnus intently. A barely recognizable smile brushed the corners of her mouth. Though Magnus did catch it.

“I know that look. The answer is still no.”

“His younger sister, who he is very close with, is studying at Columbia, or so my sources told me. So I am pretty certain she knows exactly where her brother is at the moment.” 

“Great. Go and ask her. Or, as you prefer, send a paparazzo to spy on her.”

Catarina grinded her teeth. “Don’t make it sound like I am a bad person. I am just doing my job. And that always means not publishing any paparazzi pictures—or images that the stars didn’t authorize. _Pandemonium_ is not a cheap tabloid. You of all people should know what.” She had talked herself into a rage. “All I want is to find out what happened at the Lightwood/Penhallow wedding three weeks ago, get a current picture of Alec Lightwood—maybe even an interview, but that is more wishful thinking—and that’s it.”

“So sending me to find him would be different how? Because the picture quality would be more aesthetic than one from a paparazzo?”

Catarina rolled her eyes. “No, because I know I can trust you with this sensitive issue. Believe it or not, I would like to not get sued by Robert Lightwood at the end of this. Plus, you have a way with people—and, so to speak, you know half of New York. So, will you at least think about it?”

“Absolutely not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, was the long wait worth it? What do you think of this chapter? Any favorite parts/sentences?  
> And are you as much in love with Magnus as I am?
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading the banter of Magnus and Catarina. I had so much fun writing it (I hope you noticed that between the lines). I just adore these two and I really hope we will get to see Catarina on the show soon. It would be glorious.
> 
> Currently, I am writing chapter 3. I don't wanna say much yet since I tend to mess up plot lines and stuff, but let me just tell ya that you will meet more new characters--and most likely get a happy Garroway/Fairchild dinner.  
> And yes, I try to not let you wait as long as last time. I promise! 
> 
> I am also on [tumblr](http://sweetautumnleaves.tumblr.com/). Follow me and maybe yell at me?! Or just scream with me together about Malec. Whatever.
> 
> Until next time, pumpkins,  
> A.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A family reunion of some kind and a long-awaited first meeting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm, hiiiiii?  
> Yes, you can stop rubbing your eyes now because yup, I am back? Who would have thought, right? I could go on with a long and sad story about real life getting in the way of writing and other things I had to take care of but I'll spare you this.
> 
> Anyway, here is *cough*finally*cough* the next chapter of my little baby that is and always will be very dear to my heart. Thank you to everybody who left comments and kudos during all this time. It was very much appreciated and helped me to stay sane. Also to those who told me recently that they are looking forward to a new chapter: You are all the real mvp here.  
> The biggest thank you goes out to [Maris](http://followmetopromiseland.tumblr.com/) who is, hands down, the best beta one could ask for! Honestly, she deserves all the love for putting up with me and all this mess, I am not kidding! ❤

“You're here.” Clary welcomed Magnus with a big, pleased smile. “I _knew_ you'd come!” She clenched her fists and started a happy dance.

Magnus frowned. “Why wouldn't I?”

To be fair, he actually had contemplated of not coming. Not because he didn't want to see Clary, more like because of his massive hangover. 

After Catarina had left him this morning, fuming, Magnus had spent the rest of the day on his couch, cuddling with Chairman Meow and taking care of his headache that was slowly and painfully trying to kill him. He felt very much sorry for himself and swore to stop drinking so much in the future. Not to mention that he also felt kinda guilty for blowing Catarina off like that. But what did she expect? He just came back from a sabbatical--hungover, even though he only could blame himself and the damn whisky for that. But he sure as hell was not in the mood to play paparazzo for her now. Or any other day. End of story.

Magnus Bane spying, or more like stalking, a random brat of some corporate lawyer. He would have cracked up if it wasn't so ridiculous.

Clary stopped her silly dancing. “Is that a serious question?” She tilted her head, looking at him like he was stupid. A look that the Chairman had already given him today, more than once actually, and which his cat definitely owned. “Because you're _you_.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, Biscuit? Because it sure doesn't sound like one.”

Clary took a deep breath. “You're impossible.”

“Thank you, my dear. I love you, too.”

Clary rolled her eyes fondly. She dragged Magnus into the corridor of the brownstone townhouse where she lived with her mother Jocelyn and her stepfather Luke, a NYPD detective.

“Mom? He's alive.” She called and pushed Magnus straight towards the kitchen from where a delicious smell was coming. 

Magnus' stomach immediately growled. “Chicken cacciatore?”

“Chicken cacciatore. Which is Simon's fave dish, too, by the way.” Clary smiled brightly. “See, you two really need to bond. You could be BFF. Wouldn't that be great?” 

“We could be... what?” Magnus turned his head, eyebrows raised, while he stumbled down the hall. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know what that meant. Having something in common with nerd-hot-Simon was already kind of scary enough. Even if it was just Jocelyn's famous Chicken cacciatore.

“BFF. Best friends forever.” Clary looked at him. Magnus stared back, shrugging. “Oh, come on, Magnus. Please tell me you've heard that term at least once before?”

“No. And even if I have, I pretend to ignore it.”

Clary shook her head. “Unbelievable. You're only 34 years old and you have no understanding of youth culture. At all.”

“And yet I'm still alive. Shocking.”

“Is she telling you in a roundabout way that you're old and totally uncool?” The spitting image of Clary, just slightly older and with darker hair that had an auburn shimmer, turned away from the stove, smiling broadly. “Welcome home, Magnus.” She put down the spoon, rubbed her hands on her apron and grabbed Magnus by the sleeves of his tight dark-green houndstooth shirt, pulling him in for a tight hug. 

Magnus winked. “It's good to be back.”

“Mom! Please...” Clary whined, hiding her face behind her hands.

Jocelyn laughed. “Am I embarrassing you, sweetheart? Sorry, but I am your mother, it's kind of my job to do that.” 

Magnus leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms, listening to the mother/daughter banter that put a grin on his face. He really missed these precious moments while being away for the last year. Because as much as he enjoyed his sabbatical, coming back home was everything. Home where the heart was. And this, right in front of him, was his home. His family. Or the closest he’s ever come to a family. Not bound by blood, but by love.

“Honestly, why is everybody assuming today that Magnus is my boyfriend?” He heard Clary complain, face buried in the crook of her arm. “Can't a girl just be friends with a guy for instance?”

“Well, Biscuit, the better question might be... who wouldn’t want me to be their boyfriend?”

Clary rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up!” She laughed.

Magnus chuckled. He opened a bottle of red wine and poured them all some wine.

“For your information, I'm not going to fall in love. Ever.” Clary folded her arms and stared at Magnus and her mother. “And you know why? Because I don't need a guy to feel good about myself or to climb the career ladder.”

“I'm betting 50 bucks that you'll meet the love of your life within the next two weeks,” Magnus said nonchalantly. He sipped at his wine and glanced over to Jocelyn who pulled out some plates from a cupboard and tried to hide a smile.

Clary huffed. “I hate you. Why am I friends with you again?”

“Because I'm fabulous?”

“Stop finding a boyfriend for my sweet, innocent girl,” a deep voice chimed in, coming from a tall, black man with brown eyes and a warm smile who just entered the kitchen. “She's way too young to date any of these stupid and unworthy boys.”

“And too smart,” Clary added. She held her chin high, hands on her hips. A fiery bundle of energy you better not mess with. She might be tiny but she clearly didn't need anyone's protection.

“That's my girl.” Luke said proudly. He bent down and placed a kiss on his daughter's hair. Then, he pulled his wife into his strong arms and kissed her gently on the mouth. “Hey.”

“You're such a dad,” Jocelyn teased, caressing Luke's cheek.

There was so much love in the looks they exchanged that Magnus had to look away, he felt like an intruder. 

He sighed. In moments like these he really wished he wasn't single. It wasn't like he was desperately looking for somebody. No. He actually liked being single and all the benefits that this lifestyle involved. But when he saw how much Luke and Jocelyn loved and cared for each other, he really wished he could have that, too. Somebody who would love him. Who would be there for him through thick and thin. Who he could share his life with. 

Magnus had a good life. He knew that. And he most definitely knew that he got lucky because the life he was living now wouldn't even be possible without the help of his friends and the amazing people in this room. 

“Magnus. You're back.” Luke nodded towards him. “How was your trip?”

“Incredible. I have seen places you wouldn't believe exist on this planet. I lost count how often I just stood there, breathing and taking the moment in. Plus, all the people I've met were unbelievably nice and helpful. I don't think there was a moment where I missed my old life. Well, life in a studio with bitchy models who are trying to tell me how to do my job. Because yes, I have missed you. A little bit. At least.” Magnus raised his glass, winking.

“So, what are your plans now?” Jocelyn asked after everybody was seated around the massive wooden table in the dining room.

“I have no idea, my dear. I guess I just need a few more days to fully settle in, go through all the messages, mails, asks, requests that Maureen took care of before I make a decision.” 

“You're still up for the exhibition we talked about before you left, right?” Jocelyn asked.

“Of course.” Magnus took a forkful of the delicious smelling food and moaned delightfully. “This is so good, Jocelyn. Please marry me.” 

Jocelyn laughed, glancing over to Luke. Her eyes shining with love and adoration. “I’m afraid, you’re too late for that.”

Luke smiled back at her from the other end of the table.

“Way to kill my poor heart.” Magnus pouted. He put his hand on his heart and rolled his eyes like a dying swan.

“Maybe we can set Magnus up with your new boss, Luke?” Clary suggested, batting her eyelashes.

Luke’s face was the image of pure horror. “Absolutely not!”

“Don’t you dare! I still have nightmares from the last time you tried to set me up with somebody.” Magnus shivered. “The second the guy heard I was a photographer he wanted me to take pics of his di--”

“More wine, Magnus?” Luke interrupted, filling Magnus’ glass without waiting for an answer.

“Who knows what you missed out on.” Clary giggled.

Magnus tilted his head, eyes narrowed. “Not funny, Biscuit.”

Clary held up her hands in defence, still chuckling. “I am sorry, okay? He seemed like a really nice and normal guy. Although, you have to admit he was unbelievably cute.”

Magnus drowned his wine in one gulp. “Thank God Cat called before I could see all of his … cute parts.”

Luke choked. Jocelyn hid her grin behind her hand.

“How’s Catarina by the way?” Clary asked casually, shoving some chicken into her mouth and chewing on it slowly. Her eyes shining with a devious hint.

“Good, I guess.” He said in a cool voice, not giving anything away. “She survived babysitting the Chairman. Or, the Chairman survived her. I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“Who is Catarina?” Luke frowned, taking a sip from his wine.

“Simon’s and Magnus’ boss.” Jocelyn explained to her husband. 

Magnus took a deep breath, about to glare at Clary’s mother. Seriously. Were they doing this on purpose? He still had a remaining hangover---and he clearly wasn’t drunk enough for this type of talk. “She’s not my boss. I’m a freelancer,” he retorted, sounding quite annoyed.

Clary snickered. “For what it’s worth, I’m impressed that she didn’t kill you.”

Magnus leaned against the back of the chair, arms crossed. “Why would Cat kill me? First of all, we’re friends. Second, I’m her best photographer.”

“Ever so humble,” Luke laughed. 

“Well, thank you.”

“What did she want to talk to you about?”

Magnus waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He still couldn’t quite get that this conversation happened, that Catarina actually thought he would be on board with this stupid idea. Unbelievable!

Jocelyn put down her cutlery. “Now I’m intrigued,” she says.

“Please keep it PG-13, Magnus, we’re still eating,” Luke retorted. His lips curled into a lopsided grin, mischief shone on his handsome face.

Magnus scrunched his nose, feigning ignorance. “Who do you think I am?” He held up a hand immediately. “Okay, don’t answer that.” 

Everybody laughed.

“Anyway, Cat came by this morning--”

“Wait a second! I thought you went to see her after you left the _Hunter’s Moon_?” Clary interrupted, clearly confused for a second. Until it dawned on her. “Of course you didn’t go because, let me guess, you continued to celebrate your homecoming.” She shook her head. “You’re impossible.”

Magnus sent her a sharp look. “Uhm… that’s not the point, Biscuit, but thank you for your honest sympathy in regards to my still existing hangover. As I was saying, Cat came by and brought the Chairman along with her. And as it happens, she asked for a favor.” He made a dramatic pause. “She literally wants me to spy on some random guy and get pictures of him. As if I’m a fucking paparazzo. Can you believe?”

“Who is it?”

Magnus huffed. “Seriously, Jocelyn? That’s the first thing that comes to your mind? I’m appalled.”

“I’m guessing you said no.” Luke reasoned.

“Of course I said no. I have a reputation to uphold! What kind of stupid question even is this? Do you really think I don’t have anything better to do than search for this Alec Lightwood?” Magnus snorted. 

He shoved a mouthful of the Chicken cacciatore that already got a bit cold on his plate into his mouth and chewed on it. When nobody said a word, he looked up and stared into three aghast faces, mouths open. 

Magnus swallowed, frowning. “Are you alright?”

Clary was the first to find her voice. “Alec _Lightwood_?” She blinked owlishy. Turning her head, she glanced first at Luke and then at her mother. A look Magnus really couldn’t sort out.

“Do you know him?” He asked, though not very interested in the matter.

Clary choked on air, staring at Magnus like he had turned into an alien whose ship just landed in Central Park in the middle of the day. “Do I _know_ him? Is there anybody on this planet who doesn’t know him after _the_ incident?” 

“I assume you’re referring to the wedding the guy called off?” Magnus rolled his eyes excessively. “Exciting. Not.”

“You clearly have no idea who he really is, right? Wow, you must have lived under a rock these last few months.” Clary buried her face in her hands, apparently having some kind of crisis over Magnus being so damn unimpressed with the topic.

“I’m sure the guy had his reasons for ditching his fiancee--but honestly? I really don’t care.”

“The Lightwood-Penhallow wedding was supposed to be the social event of the year. Until it was called off out of the blue. And now the media is wondering why and most importantly where these two have disappeared to. It was THE topic for at least a whole week.”

Magnus shrugged. “That’s what Cat already told me. Still not interested.”

Clary buried her face into her hands, shaking her head.

“Wait a minute,” Jocelyn chimed in. “Alec Lightwood. Why does that ring a bell?”

“His parents own the biggest law firm on the West Coast. Very prestigious, although there were rumors in the past that not everything went by the law when it came to some of their multimillion dollar cases. But the FBI never found any evidence. Not surprising,” Luke said.

“Sounds like another reason to not get involved,” Magnus pouted, most certainly very annoyed that some brat from a lawyer got all the attention he deserved after being away for a year. He took the bottle of wine and poured himself another glass.

“He also looks hot.”

Magnus nearly spat his wine all over the table. He gawked at Jocelyn. “Excuse me?” He coughed.

“What?” She asked innocently. “Have you seen the man?”

“Uhm… no.”

Clary snickered. “That explains your lack of interest,” she deadpanned, sharing a look with her mother that Magnus was not sure how to interpret. 

“I remember the photos of him in that white tuxedo when he got out of the limousine and headed straight into the church to get away from the paparazzi. Tall, dark and very, very handsome. Basically your type, Magnus,” Jocelyn added with a wink.

Magnus snorted. “Sounds like a line straight from a Taylor Swift song.”

“He and Aline were such a pretty couple. They really seemed to be so in love,” Jocelyn continued. “Wonder what happened that they didn’t get married in the end.”

“Maybe one of them cheated. Not a good basis for a marriage if you ask me.”

“Magnus!” Jocelyn chided him in a soft voice, putting her hand on his fist. “Not everyone will turn out to be like Camille.”

Magnus grimaced. “Whatever. If you find out why they did not get married, be sure to let Catarina know.” Magnus taunted, picking through the rest of his food that got long cold by now. He was so done with this conversation. He definitely should have stayed at home and nursing his headache with some more whisky, that’s for sure.

“And why does your boss--” Magnus’ head jerked up, glaring through narrowed eyes towards to Luke who held up his hands in surrender. “Why does this Catarina lady want you to take pics? You’re not a paparazzi.”

“Thank you, Luke. Exactly what I am trying to say all along. I knew you of all people would understand me.” Magnus nodded. “And well, since tall, dark and handsome has been hiding from the press, which is something that Cat cannot accept, she wants me to find him to get all the juicy details why he didn’t marry his lovely ex-fiancée. Because I know people.” He shook his head, offended from head to toes.

“But how should you find him then? He could be everywhere?” Jocelyn frowned, arms crossed.

Magnus rolled his eyes, rubbing his thumb and forefinger in a nervous tic. “His sister, who he apparently is very close with, is attending Columbia University, so Cat suspects that he is staying in New York.”

“If that’s the case, you just need to find her to get to her brother. Easy.” Luke got up to bring the dirty plates into the kitchen.

“I’m not a cop, Luke. And more importantly: not a fucking paparazzi. I simply don’t spy on people. Or stalk them. People usually come to me by choice to take their photographs. Besides, if that would be so damn easy, the media would have printed the story ages ago.”

“You sound impressed.” Clary smiled. A smile that made Magnus kind of infuriated. 

“Pfft. I just don’t understand what is so special about this rich guy, that’s all.”

“He’s part of the high society, his beautiful ex-girlfriend is Aline Penhallow who is the new star in Hollywood, he looks gorgeous and...”

Magnus closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing his temples because the headache was about to be in full force any second. “Alright, alright, I get it. You all have a weak spot for gossip and the hots for Tall, Dark and Handsome.”

“Which you would understand when you see him. His eyes…”

Magnus turned his head, eyes searching for Luke who leaned against the doorframe. Arms folded before his broad chest, chuckling.

“Trust me, Magnus, the topic was all over the news. There was no way to miss it.”

“Well, I think we should leave poor Magnus alone for today,” Jocelyn said. “After all, this is still his choice. Though all the fun aside, I have to agree with him. If Alec Lightwood doesn’t want to be found, it’s his decision to respect. He might be famous but he also deserves to be left alone and not be observed 24/7 just because the curious public thinks it is their right to know every detail of their lives.”

“Thank you, my dear. I might not be as famous as some Hollywood actor, since I work behind the camera, but it was still so nice to get away from all of this, to places where nobody knows who you really are. So yes, I totally understand this Lightwood guy.”

“But you will still come to the exhibition next weekend, right? I promise it is a very small event of a few local artists. A casual get-together.”

“Well… how could I miss it then, huh?”

Clary’s phone chimed. “Oh, it’s a message from Simon,” she said. “He just finished band practice and is now heading out to get some drinks with Bat and Rebecca at the _Hunters Moon_. By the way, Maia added him back.”

“Shall I call for the wedding flowers then?” Magnus deadpanned.

“You’re awful.”

Magnus put a hand on his heart, slightly shaking his head. “Poor Maia. Still don’t get what she sees in Salmon.”

“He’s nerd-hot.” Clary winked.

“Maybe I really should google this Lightwood guy now,” Magnus contemplated. He must admit, they all got him curious. Besides, looking him up didn’t hurt anyone. Even if he would look quite alright, Magnus would not change his mind. He would not stalk this Lightwood boy. Not in a million years. But just looking...

Clary rested her chin on her entwined fingers, smiling. “Well maybe you will run into him and you will fall head over heels with him without knowing who he really is.”

“Yeah. Or maybe I will be dating Simon from tomorrow on.”

Luke and Jocelyn snorted with laughter.

Clary stuck her tongue out him. “Mark my words, Bane.”

Magnus raised his glass and winked.

*#*#*

“I think that mug is full by now.” Lily stated with her arms crossed. She leaned against the counter of _Downworld Coffee Bar_ and looked at Alec with a mixture of absolute boredom and bafflement.

“Huh?” Alec blinked rapidly. “Fuck,” he hissed, looking at the huge brown lake that was forming on the counter and was close to dripping on the floor any second. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

He quickly put the coffee pot away and grabbed a cloth to wipe up the mess. Of course while doing that he achieved to get some of the spilled coffee directly onto his white shirt. A light brown stain formed almost immediately. Great. Just fucking great. 

Lily snorted. “You’re such an amateur.”

“Once again, thanks for your encouraging words.” 

“Anytime.” Lily said nonchalantly. She grabbed a plate with a cinnamon bun and a cup of coffee and brought it to an older man with the thick rimmed glasses and the bald head who was sitting by the window, reading a newspaper.

Alec looked after her, about to shake his head again when Lily practically slammed the plate and mug on the table, startling the old man. As always, Lily was such a delight to their customers. Sometimes Alec was wondering why Raj hadn’t fired her yet, since the petite Asian girl was either bitching or looking at the patrons as if they’d come to ruin her day. Then again, Raj had hired him even though Alec had no experience whatsoever. In his first three days Alec had not only broken several plates, but mixed up the names and orders of their customers more than once and nearly blew up their the super expensive coffee machine. 

The reason why _Downworld Coffee Bar_ hadn’t closed yet was probably thanks to Victor’s baking skills. His double-chocolate chip cookies were simply delicious and Izzy had told Alec, the first time he’d brought her some, that she would kill for them. “You have to ask him for that recipe.” She’d begged. Alec had murmured something along the lines that it was a secret family recipe. A big fat lie, of course. He was pretty sure that Victor would have given him the recipe if he’d just asked him, but Alec would not suffer through another episode of Izzy trying to bake. No way.

“So, what were you daydreaming about?” Lily asked, looking at Alec who still tried to hide the brown stain right above his belly button under his apron but as soon as he moved, the stain was visible again. After trying to fix it for the upteenth time, he gave up for good.

“Nothing.” He said absentmindedly, glancing over the mostly empty tables after the usual morning rush had ebbed away.

“You’re the worst liar ever, Hardwood.” Lily stated, taking a sip from her own cup.

“Would you stop calling me that? It’s Alec.”

“But that sounds boring.”

Alec narrowed his eyes. “And Hardwood doesn’t?”

She shrugged. “Sounds like a stage name for a porn star.”

He nearly spat out his coffee over the counter. “Ex-excuse m-me?” He stammered, his voice going up at least two octaves and his face the image of pure horror.

“Relax, Hardwood.” Lily patted his arm sympathetically. “I know you’re way too prude to be a porn star who secretly works in a coffee shop.”

Alec simply blinked at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Lily tilted her head, her lips curling into a lopsided grin. “Have you met yourself? You’re the most boring guy ever. You are oblivious to any person who’s flirting with you and by the weird chance that you might actually catch it by accident you end up stuttering like an idiot. Plus, you would rather stick your nose into a book or write endless stuff into one of your notebooks instead of going to a club with me, Raj and Victor. Shall I continue?”

“You sound like my sister.”

Isabelle who had dragged him to be a bit more outgoing, now that he lived in a new city, worked in a coffee shop and had a new name. Well, only a new last name because there was no way he was going to use his middle name Gideon for his new undercover life. The whole idea of changing his name was stupid to begin with. No wonder it had been Jace who suggested it. 

_Hardwood._

Alec rolled his eyes excessively. What the hell was he thinking when he agreed to this nonsense? “You might look different now with the glasses and the stubble, bro, but I really would change the last name, too, if I were you. You know the damn paparazzi are like vultures.” That’s how he ended up as Alec Hardwood, barista and aspiring writer, who came to the city to follow his dreams. A plot straight out of a dumb romance novel.

“I should meet her then.”

“Over my dead body,” Alec mumbled, burying his nose in his notebook again to scribble down an idea. Or half of an idea. Or maybe just pretending to be busy to not continue this discussion with his co-worker.

Ever since Alec had came to NYC he’d wanted to work on his career as an author but if he was brutally honest with himself he had achieved barely anything so far. Sure, when he was not working at the coffee shop, he sat behind his desk at home, trying to write down some sentences. But as soon as he finished one sentence, he deleted it immediately because it was just fucking bullshit. So he mostly ended up staring out of the window and down on the street. He’d even counted how often the cursor blinked in one minute. But actually writing? Working on his novel? Not a chance. Lydia will kill him if he doesn’t deliver the first draft of his very much anticipated first novel soon. 

Lydia Branwell, an old friend from boarding school who now worked as a junior editor in one of the biggest publishing houses of the country. From the moment Alec had called her to ask for her honest opinion on his short stories, she never stopped believing in him. She’d told him straight away that he had talent, that he should try to work on something bigger than just some short stories and poems. And when he had something for her, he should call her.

He had.

Alec had sent her an expose of a novel. Actually, Izzy had forced him to do that. Of course his sister had noticed that he was up to something so he had opened up to her about his love for the written word and that he would love to become an author one day, instead of joining their parents’ law firm. Alec knew early on that this was not the right career for him. But he still did as his parents wished and finished law school. Even though he had hated it from day one. 

Then again, he was a Lightwood after all.

Alec didn’t even question the plans his parents had laid out for him, thinking that it was the best path for him to follow. And after all, writing was just a stupid hobby and nothing to actually pursue, right? Even though his siblings had told him otherwise. More than once actually.

As well as Aline.

But Lightwoods didn’t follow their dreams. 

Alec had its duties. He had to take over the firm one day. And he had to marry a nice, prestigious girl and start a family. That’s what counted and was important. Not some silly dream of becoming an author.

Alec looked down at his notebook, full of random notes, striked out words, sentences. Maybe his parents were right from the start. Maybe all of this was just ridiculous and the worst choice he’d ever made. Maybe he should have sticked to being a lawyer and making his family happy and proud. Because right now he had nothing. Nothing to even start with. It all was just bullshit. And Lydia would kill him if he ever told her that since coming to New York his inspiration had flown out of the window and he was stuck in the biggest writer’s block. After all, she went on a limb for him. She would have to face serious consequences in front of her boss if he bailed now.

_Fuck!_

Frustrated, he threw the notebook and pen away and started to rub at the coffee stain again. Apparently he was not only a big failure when he came to writing a novel but also at being a barista.

“Are you trying to show off your abs?” Lily chuckled, climbing onto a table behind the counter, her legs dangling.

Alec tilted his head, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, shut up.” 

He liked Lily, liked that she was so straightforward. And even though people might think that she hated his guts because of the way she acted around him, Alec knew that was her way of showing that she liked him. Because internally, she had a heart as big as her mouth.

Lily made some tsk, tsk sounds. She eyed him shamelessly from head to toe over the rim of her coffee cup. “You’re keeping an eye out for that guy, huh?”

Alec instantly froze for a second. “What guy?”

“The tall Asian guy with the broad shoulders you’ve been staring at since your second day working here.”

Alec crossed his arms. “I didn’t stare! What are you talking about?”

Lily pursed her lips. “Oh please. Your mouth nearly dropped to the floor and you were this close,” her thumb and forefinger barely touching each other, “to drooling.”

“He came by _once_.” Alec hated how defensive he sounded. Besides, he really did not stare. Or drool. He did not.

“Oh, so you did pay attention to him.” She clearly mocked him once again. Of course.

“What?”

She smiled. “Nothing.”

Alec sighed. “Are you trying to tell me something?” He rubbed his fingers over his neck. Sometimes he really wasn’t sure why he was even trying to put up with her. He would lose anyway.

Lily looked knowingly at him. And Alec wasn’t sure what to make out of this. After all, she was probably just teasing him.

“He’s gorgeous.”

“And?” He asked, trying to sound bored while in fact he was really fighting back a blush. Because fuck, that man had been indeed so damn hot with his warm brown eyes that were rimmed with black kohl and the most beautiful smile Alec had ever seen.

“Look at you, Hardwood, you’re not denying it. That is a first.” Lily looked way too smug for her own good.

Alec rolled his eyes. “He came by to get a caramel macchiato with soy milk. I didn’t even serve him that day, remember? Raj did because my shift hadn’t started yet.”

“I wonder how much that says about you that you still remember his coffee order?”

“It’s my job.” Alec yelled and the few customers that were present looked at him curiously .

Lily brushed a strand of ebony black hair behind her ear, smiling. “Well then, here’s your chance to be all _professional_.” She nodded towards the entrance door. 

Alec followed her with his eyes and nearly choked. 

Lily hopped down from the table. She patted his forearm and grinned. “Would you look at that, my break is just about to start.”

“What… Lily, you can’t…” Alec looked at her in panic. She wouldn’t dare… She couldn’t leave him alone now. It was only his fourth day as a barista. He could not...

“You’ve got this, Hardwood.” And with that she disappeared in the back, humming. 

Alec suppressed the urge to call after her like a toddler whose mother brought him to the kindergarten for the very first time. He would so make her pay for this. He had no idea how but he so would even if it was the last thing he did.

The beautiful stranger made a beeline to the counter, eyes glued on the phone in his hand. He had long, graceful fingers that were frantically tapping onto the screen. His dark hair was spiked up the same as the last time Alec had seen him, except that he had now some dark red streaks in it. Combined with the dramatic eye make-up, the extra tight black pants and the deep burgundy henley that perfectly framed his ripped abs, he looked like a supermodel. 

Alec suddenly forgot how to breathe properly. And more importantly where to put his damn hands. He was so screwed.

“A caramel macchiato with---” The man looked up from his phone, blinking at Alec who, he hated to admit it, actually was staring at the man this time.

“Extra shot and soy milk, right?” Alec finished the sentence. He had no idea where those words were coming from. Or how he was able to actually articulate something that was not complete BS.

The supermodel shook his head, bewildered, before he nodded. “Can you read my mind, darling?”

Alec coughed nervously and pointed to the coffeemaker behind him. “I better… I mean, your order…”

“Right. I’ll let you work your magic, pretty boy.”

Alec nearly tripped over his own two feet when turning around. He forced himself to smile, although he was pretty sure it turned out more like a grimace. Lily was totally right, he had no social skills whatsoever. Let alone being able to not make a fool out of himself in front of a cute guy. 

Alec had no idea how, but he was actually able to prepare the order without messing things up. No exploding coffee machine. No incidents of spilled coffee on his shirt. Nothing. It all went surprisingly smooth, apart from the fact that his heartbeat was up the roof and he felt two brown eyes staring holes into his back. And even though Alec told himself to calm down and breathe properly, he was very close to hyperventilating.

“Here you go,” he said when handing the supermodel his coffee and taking the money in exchange. Alec had to admit he was kind of proud of himself that his voice sounded halfway steady.

“Thank you--” The man tilted his head and looked at the name tag that was attached onto Alec’s chest. “Alec. Short for Alexander, I assume?” The man asked, taking a sip from his macchiato. His eyes never blinking once when locking eyes with Alec’s.

Alec gulped. “Yes.”

“Well then, Alexander,” he said in such a smooth and seductive voice that Alec was sure to pass out any second, “I’m Magnus. And this coffee is excellent.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Alec adjusted his glasses, a crooked smile curling at the corner of his mouth. He felt silly for being so flattered. After all, he’d just made him a coffee.

Magnus played with his ear cuff, a silver snake.

If Alec didn’t know better he would guess that Magnus seemed a bit coy around him all of a sudden, which didn’t make sense. Internally Alec chided himself. After all, the man was just being nice and apparently up for some small talk while having his coffee. He clearly was not flirting with Alec, please!

“So, tell me, Alexander, what’s your secret?” Magnus asked, leaning forward to give Alec quite a nice view of bronze skin that was adorned with various necklaces. 

For a moment that seemed to last for an eternity, even though it probably only went on for five seconds, they both stared into each other’s eyes. 

Alec felt like he could get lost in those deep brown eyes any second. What was going on with him? It clearly wasn’t the first time Alec saw a handsome man. But this one? Not only was he the most beautiful man Alec had ever met but also he seemed to be flirting with him? Which usually never happened and if Alec was totally honest, it freaked him out. A lot. 

“My s-s-secret?” Panic rushed through Alec’s whole body and he started to sweat instantly. Was Magnus one of those paparazzi that Alec had been successfully avoiding until this very day? Did they finally find him? But how? He had changed his look and name. Nobody knew where he was hiding, except for his siblings. Not even Aline. And if Alec was being honest, he’d expected the press to go after her rather than stalking him. In the end, he was a nobody. Especially after getting rid of his popular last name.

“Yes, where have you been hiding all this time, Hotshot?”

“Hiding? What do you mean?” Alec asked, trying to act cool even though he was close to having a nervous breakdown. His blood ran through his body with full force, heart beating so fast that he thought it might burst out of his chest any time.

Magnus chuckled. “Oh, darling. Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

Alec raised his left eyebrow and looked at him in utter confusion. 

Suddenly Magnus’ glittery phone started to ring, causing both of them to jump a little. Magnus looked at the caller-ID and sighed audible. “Sorry, but I really have to take this.”

Alec made a gesture that he should go ahead and hastily busied himself behind the counter, trying to get his unsteady breathing under control. He was acting so damn ridiculous.

“In case you’re calling to know if I’ve changed my mind since yesterday, the answer is still no,” Magnus said exasperated, his jaw tense. There was no sign left of the flirty man from thirty seconds ago. His face was hard, all softness gone. In fact he looked ready for a fight.

Alec noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Magnus scribbled something onto a napkin, phone trapped between his shoulder and chin while the caller continued to talk at him. Magnus’ only response being snorting and excessive eye rolling.

He shoved the napkin in Alec’s direction and grabbed his coffee. “I’ll be there in an hour. You do know that you owe me then, right?”

Magnus winked at Alec one last time before he turned to leave. 

Curiosity took over and Alec grabbed the napkin. He read the words ‘call me’ that were written down in a fancy handwriting and below them a telephone number. 

He furrowed his brows.

He was so screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... they finally met! Hurray!!!  
> Was it worth the wait? How did you like it? Let me know what you think of this chapter, what lines or scenes you liked. I am curious. Remember that comments and kudos are everything to every author. :)
> 
> I don't know when I can update next because I need to finish an original novel first. But I have already plotted the next chapter, so we will see how it goes.
> 
> If you wanna yell at me or just come and cry with me about these two idiots, I am mostly on [tumblr](http://magnusandalexander.tumblr.com/) but also on [twitter](http://twitter.com/anicalein). If you wanna live-tweet, please use the hashtag #citeots so that I can track it.
> 
> Until next time, pumpkins,  
> A.


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